Chausser shoes at Pitti

I can’t say I know how you go about staking your claim on real estate at Pitti Uomo, but I would think that “smack dab in front of the Cucinelli space” seems like a good spot to be, trafficwise. Nonetheless, Yoichi Maeda, the guy behind Chausser shoes, seemed a little bored as buyers and other visitors considered his boots, shoes, and sneakers before completing their Pitti pilgrimage to Brunello’s kingdom. Those who didn’t give Chausser a second look were missing out on another brand that balances an artisanal focus with an aesthetic one.

Chausser’s Yoichi Maeda in the neon jungle of Pitti.

Founded in 2001, Chausser attracted attention a few years back when its Japan-designed-and-made shoes, many in unusual, domestically sourced shell cordovan, found stockists in the United States. Chausser’s lasts are a little more exaggerated than your average maker–narrow at the waist of the shoe, with slightly bulbed, upturned toes. Not that they’re at all extreme, particularly when worn, but they stood out in Pitti’s tailored pavilion where traditional English makers held court. Some are soled in leather, and some finished with a Vibram sole guard.

Yoichi seemed particularly proud of Chausser’s natural-toned cordovan shoes, which age with wear to a patinated tan. For fans of the concept of wabi-sabi in clothing, these models give the option of pleasant age-ability with distinctive design–sort of N.D.C. via Tokyo. The workboot styled models were most appealing to me, although Chausser also offers loafers and oxfords. On the other hand of the material spectrum is a range of sneakers in canvas and soft suede made up in on-trend shapes (the sneakers are not necessarily made in Japan). Chausser makes pretty women’s shoes as well, although the focus at Pitti was obviously on their men’s lines.

The evolution of a Chausser natural cordovan shoe–new on the left, worn on the right.

Chausser boots in textured leather.

Chausser sneakers.

Superlative socks from Bresciani

Silk hosiery from Bresciani.

As Mike from Epaulet mentioned in his post on visiting Pitti Uomo as a buyer, the sheer number of vendors, from small batch manufacturers to industry giants, is enough to drive a blogger crazy. As a visitor rather than a buyer, I had even less incentive to stay focused, especially when it came to the detail pieces–small leather goods, neckwear, socks, and the like.

Chopsticks, anyone?

Fortunately Fok and I were tipped off to check out the hosiery from Italy’s Bresciani, and we made a point to drop by the booth and talk with Massimiliano Bresciani and Will Boehlke, a fan and stockist. Like many vendors at Pitti (and any other tradeshow), Bresciani had some eye-catching if gimmicky merch out front, but the piano-key and fair isle socks belie the solid quality and subtle designs that are the brand’s backbone. Massimiliano explained that about half of the 360,000 pairs Bresciani makes each year in Spirano Bergamo, Italy, are seasonal designs, and the other half are essentially the same season to season–navy and black haven’t lost their appeal since the company was founded in 1970 by Massimiliano’s father. The wilder patterns and thematic socks are bigger sellers in the U.S. than in the other 42 countries to which Bresciani ships (Russians apparently prefer black, black, and black). The New York Times recently noted a trend for showy socks  among tech entrepreneurs–wonder how many are besocked with Bresciani?

Will, Fok, and Massimiliano talk tips for a suitable sock drawer.

What Bresciani offers to those of use with less whimsical sock drawers is tremendous quality; socks in specific sizes; fine fabrics like silk, cashmere, vicuna, and alpaca; and a variety of designs in the less common but quite practical over-the-calf cut–a true rarity in the United States. Bresciani also has a high level of attention to detail: a 12-step production process that includes hand linked toes (Bresciani pointed out that “hand-linked” is something of a misnomer; the work is too fine to be done entirely by hand, but the sock must be manipulated by hand on the linking machine).

Like tiny fair isle sweaters for your calves.

Sitting and discussing the minutiae of sock construction, we checked out Bresciani’s contrast rib socks in straightforward cotton, pure silk dress socks, and an endless variety of pattern. Massimiliano said they carry 85 to 90 designs each season. I inquired about recommended care for socks, as I’ve had several pairs of (non-Bresciani) hose in cashmere or silk blends disintegrate quickly. M. Bresciani recommends cold washing and hang drying. Avoid the dryer, he said, and their socks can last indefinitely.

Cashmere.

After our visit, Massimiliano sent me a few pairs of over-the-calf socks to try out (no piano keys, fortunately), and a more complete review of how they’re holding up is to come.

ts(s) fall 2012.

The philosophy of ts(s) and designer Takuji Suzuki is… in between. Does he make military influenced sportswear? Sportswear influenced militaria? The answer is in between. For the 2012 collection, no piece is wholly in one world or another. A military jacket can flip down its collar and become a seemingly straightforward tailored sportcoat. A weighty navy wool fabric used in a fireman’s toggle coat is knit rather than woven, and has a surprising amount of give. A windowpane pattern has been “broken” to make it ts(s)’s own.

Shades of navy and khaki dominate ts(s) fall 2012, with flashes of blaze orange and pink (in shirts and accessories) to set it off. Many fabrics are exclusive or ts(s)-designed, while others have been treated by ts(s) in unusual ways–an Italian gray flannel, for example, is deceptively printed with a snow-like pattern that brings out either blue or olive drab tones.

At Pitti, we looked at a reversible down vest in a mottled olive herringbone wool/linen blend (phew) from Donegal, Ireland (reverse is olive polyester). The fabric is hairy but soft.  A raglan jacket incorporates the same fabric and down in the torso–the sleeves are not quilt lined. Another outerwear piece uses knotty-textured Austrian loden fabric in a staticky mottled green and blue. Brogue boots in two-tone fabric (lined in leather) drew a lot of attention–Suzuki wanted color in his shoes and chose a durable poly felt. The boots are storm welted and vibram soled, with a natural welt for contrast (and made in Japan).

Many of ts(s)’s pieces are normal, wearable cuts. But some are less traditional–a poncho in a tech fabric has a lot of volume, and the fireman’s jacket can be matched with aggressively cropped trousers in the same fabric,  and caps that play on military shapes but look vaguely Galactic Empire-era. Nearly 10 years in, Suzuki’s well-balanced work has certainly stepped out of the long shadow cast by his brother, Engineered Garments designer Daiki Suzuki.

 

Want les Essentiels de la Vie.

Want les Essentiels de la Vie wants you to travel in comfort and style. Their accessories are neither over nor underdesigned, with helpful details where you want them but without utilitarian excesses. Want chooses to be excessive instead with luxury materials and construction.  At Pitti, Dexter Peart showed me what Want has planned for their imagined customer, a long-distance commuter with a penchant for technology, travel, and design.

Their current leitmotif is duality. Many of their standard models are mixing fabrications, and their recurring design touch is in their zips, which are half silver toned and half gold.  The O’Hare tote, an evergreen model, is in Italian waxed cotton with trim in their organic cotton.  Other bags use suede as the context for a calf leather, as in pocket that’s a perfect fit for an iPad–not a rare feature in bags these days, but thoughtfully integrated here rather than tacked on. Elsewhere, caviar leather (stingray) shows up in small leather goods. A fully reversible bag has been made with a double-faced wool blend: one side is gray, one is blue. Want has also made a slipper ideal for air travel: it collapses nearly flat and zips closed. Gray wool matches with cognac leather, and black with black.

At the show all the samples were displayed on collapsible displays of honeycombed kraft paper, topped with sweatshirt gray felt discs. Want is a Canadian operation, and Dexter explained it was some Canadian camaraderie that led them to use furniture from Vancouver’s Molo Design. One stool held a special made-in-Japan executive set, another held their new made-in-Naples gloves in cashmere-lined suede and leather, again with a Want gold/silver zip, and bracelets from a make near Milan. Their manufacturing is diverse–leather bags are made in Italy, some smaller goods in China, and some in Japan. That’s not surprising given the global scale of Want’s reach.

Reversible tote from Want.

Nicest gym bag I've ever seen.

Gym bag detail.

Silver/gold zip on a canvas bag.

Travel slipper in gray/cognac.

Japan-made executive suite.

Gloves and small leather goods.

O'Hare tote in slate green cotton.

 

 

 

Finamore at Pitti Uomo

Finamore could rest on its old-world shirtmaker laurels (second oldest shirtmaker in Naples; more handsewing than Betsy Ross [more in the black labeled classica line than in sportier models]; renowned MTM program, fabric from top mills, etc., etc.) but at Pitti 81 chose instead to highlight its innovative side, with look-at-me fabrics and treatments, quilted snap-button shirts, and aggressive collars.  I was surprised to see jackets alongside Finamore’s famous shirts; don’t yet know too much about the tailored goods, but we’re checking into it!

Checks and an excellent out of focus roll on the collar. (Apologies for shallow focus on these–it was dark in the depths of Pitti.)

Fina-floral.

The jackets were lightly tailored and used exceedingly soft fabrics. Accessories–ties and scarves–were top drawer as well.

The Italian-only Finamore rep REALLY wanted me to see the washed (but mostly dirtied) treatments on these quilted shirts. Interesting stuff.

Coffee with Mariano Rubinacci, Redux.

As Pete wrote earlier, one of the calmer moments we had at Pitti Uomo was our morning coffee with Mariano Rubinacci.

Mariano met us at the Westin Excelsior on the Thursday morning, the last busy day of Pitti Uomo before people start packing it up on Friday in preparation for the long season ahead.  Milan, Paris, and New York are upon you in quick succession after that, making it a very long month ahead.

After introductions, and a brief tangent on the Excelsior’s stunning lobby and cut flowers (I only noticed them when Mariano pointed them out), he suggested that we get a cappuccino.  He explained that he would be going to Pitti after coffee, and asked if we would like to share a cab with him.  Although he seemed politely amused by our presence, he was a gracious host, and patiently answered all of our questions, most of which I’m sure he had answered many times. Where was Luca? How often do they come to the United States? Etc., etc.

Rubinacci spoke of his son, Luca, who was vacationing in Aspen—but Mariano would soon be fitting clients in London.  He went to London to meet clients more often and to New York, less frequently.  A fluctuation in your size?  Within 4 kilos, a garment could be adjusted.  Four kilos was a full size though, and you might need a new garment for further expansion after that.  “Not for me,” he pointed to his own jacket, which I thought looked impeccably tailored, “I don’t change this, to remind myself that I am fat.”  Yes, Rubinacci would be doing some ready-to-wear, but only accessories.  I joked that I might have to steal a jacket he’d once made for a friend.  “No, no, no, that wouldn’t work, since that garment would have been made for someone else.” No, he does not consider himself a tailor—he could not cut a jacket himself.  What he is, “It’s a difficult question.”  But he does tell people what will work for them.  And he does a classic style, which doesn’t change so much.  About Fabio Borelli’s tight suits and high-water pants, “It’s very modern.”  He was very happy that many of the 45 tailors in his workshop were under 50 years old.  He wanted to leave something for his son, he explained, and if everyone was old, that was not much to leave.

Coffee in Italy was good.  It was, according to Mariano, not the water, as some claimed.  He had the same coffee in London, and it tasted the same when made with British water.  He gave us a recommendation for a good seafood restaurant in Florence, something of a rarity; Florence is better known for its enormous steaks (prices are per 100g, often with a 700g minimum).  Next time I go to Florence, I will have to get myself to Fuor d’Aqua.

Outside, while we waited for a cab, he greeted an older gentleman whose car service had just arrived.  “The owner of Kiton,” he told me.  On the drive to Pitti, I asked him for recommendations for leather goods—I needed to get something for my wife.  “There are many good leather goods in Florence, but I am not so much an expert,” he explained.

We walked together to the entrance of Pitti, and then he had to go.  Not sure where tailoring luminaries go.  We were on for another day taking notes and photos at booths.  Although I am unlikely to ever have the opportunity to commission a garment from him, I understand why his clients are so loyal.  He gave us a peaceful hour in the midst of a week of chaos.  Thank you for that, Mr. Rubinacci.

Coffee with Sig. Rubinacci.

It’s hard to stay cynical in Florence. I arrived prepared to look down my nose at Pitti’s tradeshow circus and the inevitable sartorial showmanship from attendees, to see through the veil of #menswear and tell the unvarnished truth about what I saw. Which, of course, I will. But as a longtime fan of makers like Isaia, designers like Daiki Suzuki of Engineered Garments, and shoes like Edward Green and Crockett & Jones, not to mention those not exhibiting but present all the same, to have all the product and people in one place, and a place as easy on the eyes as Florence? It stuck a smile on my face almost all week.

One of the quieter, most pleasant moments of the week was when Fok and I met Mariano Rubinacci for a morning cappuccino at the Excelsior Hotel on the Piazza Ognissanti. Before we all visited Pitti on Thursday, we spent a little time talking about the recent and less recent history of the suit (has the suit really changed all that much in 100 years? Will anyone still be wearing suits in another 50?), the nature of Rubinacci (they run a tailoring shop, but Sig. Rubinacci? Not a tailor. What he is, he says, that’s a difficult question). Didn’t get a chance to ask him what Ye ordered.

We hope to have more from Sig. Rubinacci in the near future, as one of our contributors will be visiting Naples soon.